After the Glory
by moonservant
Summary: AU. Remembering his father's last words to him, Thorin leaves Kili behind in an attempt to preserve the Line of Durin. Now, Kili must struggle with his first real grief, the unexpected burden of being King Under the Mountain, and the ever-complicated relationship with a certain elf. [KilixTauriel] and Kili/Ori friendship.
1. Chapter 1

"I'm going to kill that piece of filth," Thorin resolved, his blood boiling with a murderous hatred so delicious compared to the battle instinct already coursing through him. He turned to find an unburdened ram galloping towards him, and he quickly mounted to assume the head of the charge. From behind him, he heard Dwalin cry, "Lead on." It was blissfully cathartic to hear such solidarity, to know forgiveness for his previous actions, and to ride forth with his friend, heir, and nephew. It was proper.

Then the flashback to another attack on the White Orc filled his mind. "Azog means to kill us all. One by one, he will destroy the Line of Durin. But by my life, he will not take my son," his father had pledged in their last conversation. And by his life, or capture, Azog had not been successful. However, seeing the last two of his male relations riding beside him, was he not now in his father's boots? Did he tell one of his two best warriors to sit out in order to preserve the Line? The chance for success was higher with both Fili and Kili, but it also placed all his kin in one location. As his immediate heir, Fili had the right to be there, to take up the hunt should Thorin fall, but he feared leaving Kili behind. Still, his mind was made up. He steered his ram hard into Kili's path, bringing them both to a sudden halt that would have thrown man or elf, but simply brought the two dwarves face to face.

"Not you, Kili." His nephew made to object, just as he'd done, but he continued on. " I need you to be my representative here. Stand with our kin in my stead, defend our homeland. Will you do that for me?" After the way Kili had stood up to him on the wall, he deserved more respect that a barked order. Thorin saw youthful desires for honor and glory flash in the youth's eyes, but the young dwarf had grown much in the past year and instead bowed his head in acceptance.

"Of course, Uncle. I will see you again when you are successful." Thorin bowed his head as Bofur, nearby, smashed an orc skull.

"Bofur, trade with Kili. Ride with me." His order was followed quickly and Thorin continued on towards Ravenhill and ignored the solemn parting glances between brothers. For now, he was doing the best for his family. He suppressed any lingering fears and turned his mind resolutely to the battle ahead.

* * *

Kili swallowed his disappointment as he watched his uncle and brother ride off to finish this familial vendetta. Fili and he had both been raised on the story of the Defeat of the White Orc, and he knew both of them had shared in Thorin's particular anger when the stories proved false. Now, he was to be denied the chance to avenge his great-grandfather and grandfather. However, the battle continued to rage around him, and his uncle and king had asked him especially to fight with their Iron Mountain kin. He turned his attention to that.

Being so young, Kili still had a youth's lankiness and therefore was not yet suited to a battle axe. He was quick with a sword, but more useful assistance was presenting itself. Not far from him, the ground and first of the corpses were scattered with arrows. He sprinted forward, slashing at the odd orc in his way, and quickly filled his quivers with suitable-enough arrows. The tips might be dulled and some of the feathers were ruined or entirely gone, but he would make it work. He cut through a thicker part of the battle to where the mountain sloped upward. It was only a short climb before he could look down at the field. As he notched an arrow, he surveyed the action and saw a pack of orcs converging on Gloin. In quick succession, he let two arrows at his targets, easing the pressure long enough to let Gloin finish his task. It was a temporary relief, but it was enough. He notched another and moved on. This aerial support did not last long, but it was a small advantage for now. Within fifteen minutes, his ammunition was spent, but at least fifty enemies were slain. He ran from his perch and charged into the action. He gathered a few more arrows in the process, but as he reached the thick of things, he abandoned his bow in favor of the sword. Now that the numbers were thinning, he was able to use his speed to advantage. Ground was not quickly gained, but compared to the clumsy and top-heavy orcs, Kili weaved around them with relative ease. Some of his much shorter kin may have had the advantage of being below an orc's line of sight, but he did not feel hindered as he fought.

He pulled his sword from between an orc's ribs and pivoted to find a horde gaining interest in someone. He slashed deep into the kidneys of one and pushed the body onto its companion while jabbing now to his right. He broke through to find Ori barely holding his ground.

"Kili!" Ori panted when he saw him. "I thought you went with Thorin." Kili and Ori lunged past each other almost in synchronized unison as the might have in training to cover each other's backs.

"And leave you all here? I thought we wanted to win," he joked, which got a small smile to ease through Ori's tight-lipped concentration. They finished off the immediate foes and Kili decided they needed to stick together. Through no lack of heart or determination, Ori was more skilled with a smithy's hammer than a weapon, and Kili could tell the battle was taking its toll. His muscles, still recovering from illness, ached with exertion, but in a satisfying way. He could hold on much longer. "Come on, this way," he directed towards Dale. But not two steps forward, all ceased movement as bats burst over Ravenhill. "Fili," he gasped in surprise. The enemy forces tried to gain advantage from the dwarves' surprise, and Kili himself fell as he barely dodged an attack. He slew his foe, and began charging for the mountain road near the city. He needed to help Thorin.

Halfway to his goal, Kili spotted a welcomed blur of red and green. Even in his urgency, he felt a warmth course through him and his heart leapt into his throat. "Tauriel!" he cried over the clamor, and he thought he heard his name reciprocated. He pressed on, though the opposition grew denser the closer he drew towards the city. They met at the fork.

"You're safe," she observed simply as it was all the battle allowed.

"I promised," is all he could muster at that second. A slash, block, and thrust later, and he could continue. "Thorin and Fili are up there. We need to help them. I think they're in danger.""

"They are. Legolas and I arrived just ahead of Gundabad's forces. Bilbo has gone to worn them." Tauriel confirmed. He pushed towards the stairs.

"We must go," he yelled in determined desperation. Tauriel stopped him with a surprisingly firm hand on his shoulder. Quickly, she drew something from her pocket, and placed it in his hand. The talisman.

"You kept your promise to me, now let me aid you in the one to your mother. I can travel the road much faster. Let me go in your stead. Legolas is already there."

"I make no such promise. They are my kin. I must defend them. But please, make haste. I shall follow." He thought Tauriel wanted to argue, but she seemed to decide against it, perhaps for time's sake. He was delayed a moment longer by another orc, but then he began his climb. On a ram, this would have taken only a matter of moments, but these were men-sized stairs, and his right leg was still weaker than normal. He quickly wished he could remove the chainmail to ease the burden, but logic kept it in place. Nearing the peak, new orcs began to pour from the hilltop, though they did not look like Gundabad orcs. Perhaps they had not arrived yet. Despite his fatigue, he pushed forward with renewed determination, anxious to find his family. It was tough and slow, but he was resolute and brutal.

As fast as possible, he pushed towards the immobile signal flags that had been their original target. He doubted they were still there, but it was a starting point. He blocked a fierce blow from overhead and felt his knees shake from the force of the orc above him. As he felt he might fail, he fell forward and let the orc crash over him and roll off the rail-less edge, taking an ill-fated comrade with him. Knees still weak, he half crawled, half ran up the rest of the stairs to peer down into the courtyard. The sight chilled his blood. Amidst many slain orcs, there lay a hobbit and a golden-haired dwarf. Without a word, he flew down into the courtyard to his brother. "Fili!" he cried as he dug beneath the bodies stacked atop him. As he pushed away the last foe, his fears were confirmed. He choked back a cry when he saw the gaping, bloody hole in Fili's back. He did not bring himself to look closely, but he didn't need to in order to know it was fatal. He rolled his brother over and judging by the bruising and the unnatural angel of Fili's nose, he'd also fallen from a great height. Tears stung his eyes as he cradled his elder brother's head. He let them fall hot down his face and onto Fili as if they contained the power to heal him. However, a great roar in the distance reminded him of Thorin and the continuing battle. Fili had fallen serving their king, and now he would take up the mantle. He gently laid his brother down before picking up his sword and running in the direction of the noise. He noted passively that Bilbo still breathed.

As he crested the wall overlooking the waterfall, Kili's heart sunk as he saw a blade pierce the ice and heard Thorin's pained cry. He searched for a way down, and thought he saw a staircase some meters away, and he ran for it as fast as he could without taking his eyes off Thorin. How he wished he had his bow. When he was halfway down the staircase, Azog brought his scythed limb down on Thorin who barely managed to block it. Kili involuntarily cried out, gaining both opponents' attention, and he heard Azog laugh darkly and say something unintelligible at this distance. Thorin's face changed, the pain seeming to fall away into a sad calm as he drew his sword aside, letting Azog pierce his chest. Kili screamed with him, and jumped the last few stairs as Thorin plunged his sword into the White Orc, and pushed Azog onto the ice to further drive his sword down into the ice. Kili made it just in time to hear the White Orc's death rattle and see the life leave his eyes.

Despite the blood gushing from his chest, Thorin stood under his own strength and turned to face Kili. "You are safe then," Thorin sighed with almost a smile. His entire posture seemed to relax.

"I am. But come, we need to get help. You need a healer," Kili fretted, dropping his sword and taking Thorin's arm in an attempt to rush him to help, but Thorin, still the stronger of the two, guided Kili gently towards the waterfall edge. Kili tried not to cry in helplessness as the Eagles and Beorn broke the horizon and descended on the Gundabad army only now arriving. "The battle is won, Uncle. Will you not get help now?" Kili pleaded, but Thorin did not indicate he heard him.

"I was foolish and greedy, Kili. I sought riches and brought death upon us all. Though it was not your burden to bear, the Line of Durin continues in you now." Kili tried to stop him, not wanting to hear this, but Thorin ignored him. "There is more I would have taught Fili, and still more I wish to tell you now, but time is running out. Learn from my failures, Kili, and trust yourself. Look to Balin for wisdom, as I did not. Though you are young, you are honorable, and I know you will succeed." Kili was opening sobbing now, and Thorin embraced his youngest nephew. "I am proud of the dwarf you've become and will say that again centuries from now when you join me in the halls of our ancestors." Kili hugged him back, but was nearly pulled to the ground as Thorin groaned and collapsed in pain. Kili did his best to ease him onto the ice and noted how much greater the blood was. His tears stopped as fear now seized him. A second figure joined them, but he did not register who until Thorin spoke.

"Bilbo, I'm glad you're here. I wish to part with you in friendship," Thorin said, his words coming out more forced now as pain overwhelmed him.

"You're not going anywhere, Thorin, you're going to live." His desperation pained Kili even deeper and he tightly gripped Thorin's hand, earning a reassuring grasp in return.

"I take back my words and my deeds at the gate. You did what only a true friend would do. I was too blind to see. I'm sorry that I've led you into so much peril, both of you," he added to Kili. The nephew could find no more words, but Bilbo skillfully said what they both meant.

"No, I'm glad to have shared in your perils, Thorin, each and every one of them. That is far more than any Baggins deserves."

"Farewell Master Burglar," he almost laughed and Kili felt his hand begin to lose strength and fall. "Go back to your books and your armchair. Plant your trees. Watch them grow. If more people valued home above gold, this world would be a merrier place." He coughed and gave Kili's hand a final squeeze before it went completely limp. Kili let out a pent up sob.

"No, no, no, Thorin, don't you dare." Grief soon consumed the hobbit, and the two mourned in the relative safety of the dying battle.

Kili's tears stopped first as the cold ice crept through him and his pain grew into a cold, shocked numbness. Without letting go of Thorin's hand, he fell from his knees into a slumped sitting posture and just studied his uncle. Unlike Fili who was visibly battered, besides the blood, Thorin did not look like he should be dead. There was an irrational part of him that expected Thorin to let out a groan, clutching his chest, and swearing for a healer, scolding him for being so daft to think him done. He just couldn't quite fathom that one second he had been alive, and the next was not. It didn't make sense emotionally.

He sat there when Bilbo, sobs turning to hiccups, left, saying something about leaving them alone. He sat there when the elves and men came up the hill to search for survivors or lingerers. And he sat there when Dwalin and Bofur voiced their shock at seeing their slain leader. It was only when the two bent a knee that he looked up.

"May your axe strike true and your forges forever burn, Kili, son of Dis, King Under the Mountain," they chanted in unison, taking up the sacred language of their ancestors. Kili let their words bounce off him, refusing to consider their gravity and implication.

"We need to carry him down," he croaked. "And Fili." It was something that could be done for them, and he clung to that. The elves were now swarming the hill, so Dwalin and Bofur sheathed their weapons and lifted their former king onto their shoulders as Kili led the way to Fili.

As their sad procession passed, many elves paused and gave a small bow as they spoke some Elven phrase Kili did not understand. He noted though that a certain elf maid was not amongst them. A burst of panic bloomed, and he stopped a passing solider.

"Do you know where Tauriel is?" he asked quickly. The soldier thought for a moment before remembering.

"She is being escorted to camp by Prince Legolas. She was badly injured." Kili thanked him and let the numbness resume. She was alive. That's all he needed for now. When they reached the courtyard, elves were already clearing the bodies. It would be a lengthy task, and was best started immediately. As the procession reached the final steps, two elves reach for Fili, grasping him by his wrists and ankles.

"Don't touch him!" Kili yelled in possessive anger. "That's my brother. Don't touch him." He ran the rest of the way and pushed the elves away who did not take offense to this grief. They merely offered their condolences and moved on with their task. Kili repositioned Fili into a more restful posture before trying to pick him up. Fili weighed a stone more than Kili, and under all current circumstances, he struggled to pick him up. Trying again, Kili leaned Fili over his shoulder and tried to stand, but his legs wobbled and he almost fell until a pair of hands caught him and guided him all the way up. When he was steady, Kili looked up at King Thranduil. He didn't know what to say.

"I will carry him if you'd rather, my King under the Mountain." Kili felt himself begin to shake. It really was too much.

"Thank you, but I must do this myself."

"Then allow me to clear your way." A small voice in the back of his mind that sounded an awful lot like Thorin reminded him that his was probably a political ploy, but Kili could only be so proud right now. He just wanted to get his kin off this forsaken hill. And so, that is what he did. For his part, Thranduil escorted them all the way to Erebor, steading Kili when he stumbled, and kept the crowd away. Word must have spread ahead of them, because when they reached the Great Hall, two cots were waiting for them. Thorin and Fili were gently laid down and then Kili and Dain were left alone with their relations. There was work that needed doing, civilizations to rebuild, alliances to navigate, but all the young king could do now was tend to his brother and uncle, and no one could criticize that.

* * *

**A/N: Obvious disclaimer: I do not own these characters by any means. **

**Yes, this is another AU ending. It's not that I don't like what Tolkien wrote and Jackson portrayed (I actually admire him for being willing to make such a decision), but in the movies, Kili seemed like a more natural heir than Fili, who seemed more content to be a warrior and follow Thorin. With that, I want to explore what would happen when this still very young character is suddenly thrust into a place of glory and faced with the enormous task of rebuilding a kingdom he has never seen. This will also include the budding romance with Tauriel, as that cannot be ignored, but I'm not sure yet how that will go. There is a whole lot going on after all.**

**One other disclaimer. I have not read the book, or really any of Tolkien's writings. I read the first half of Return of the King (put it aside when Frodo and Sam were in the Dead Marsh), and that's it. This will draw primarily on the movie-verse, but I have been doing as much research as possible in an attempt to stay as true as possible to Tolkien's amazingly rich creation. However, as I understand it, a lot of Dwarf culture is very secretive and is not revealed to the reader, even in the appendices. Therefore, I will take some liberties, such as the acknowledgment of a new king above, and I apologize if it conflicts with something that has been established in a book, but has not appeared in my Internet searches. Please bear with me. Thank you!**


	2. Chapter 2

That night, long after the sun was lost and the possibility of collecting more of the dead was gone, and Dain had returned to what remained of his army, the rest of The Company returned to the Hall where Kili still sat, now holding both of his relations' hands. His eyes were red and swollen from crying, his expression pained, but for now, he could find no more tears to shed. While the others knelt before the fallen, offering their silent respects and wishes for peace, Balin stood before Kili to offer him a waterskin. The young dwarf shook his head in refusal, his throat too dry and sore to vocalize his wishes.

"It's not an offer. I'm telling you to drink," Balin ordered firmly, yet gently. Kili accepted it and took a sip, though instinct soon took over and sips turned to gulps in his need to slate his mighty thirst. Balin knelt as Kili was finishing and looked to Thorin as he spoke. "Though it'll be tempting, you need to take care of yourself in the coming days. The battle is won, but there is much be done. We have not one but two cities that need restoring, friends or foes, who knows at this point, that will be making demands, and you, our king, need to be at your best. These coming months will be critical, Kili." Kili stopped searching the skin for one last drop and seemed to look through Balin.

"It wasn't supposed to be me," he rasped. "Thorin knew what to do. He was going to restore Erebor, make everything better than even before. We would prosper again, and another 100, 150 years from now, when Fili was old, fat, and had sons plenty, he would take the helm, while I…" he faltered. What did it matter now what he'd had planned? "I don't think I can do this, Balin," he admitted, safe amongst friends. If he'd been paying more attention, Kili might have seen sympathetic glances and felt the changing atmosphere of unspoken support, but he only felt like he was drowning in the enormity of this task. The Hall seemed to grow bigger or he was shrinking more and more and his heart started to race and his breathing grew shallow until Balin's firm hands brought him down to the present.

"Maybe this wasn't how anyone planned it, but it's the reality we've been handed. It won't be easy, and yes, you are young, but I speak for everyone here when I say that no one doubts your ability to be a great king. We have faced the impossible together, and together, we will get through this now. You are not alone."

"Here, here," Dwalin added softly. Kili would have cried again if he physically could.

"But for tonight, let's take care of Thorin and Fili." The younger members of the company had never been to a funeral before, and few had been to a royal one, so Balin took over to make for proper arrangements. Bombur was directed to bring basins, warm water, and cloth to Thorin and Fili's makeshift lodgings while Oin and Gloin would search for medical and hygienic supplies. Finally, Dwalin would lead the rest to bring two stone tables and any possible tapestry or cloth to the Hall. Only Balin, Kili, and Bilbo remained behind. Though the rubble at the front of the hall had been cleared in order to seal the entrance, the back half was still strewn with stone. They set off moving the more manageable chunks to the side so the tables could be carried in with ease and it would be easy enough for crowds to gather to see the king and prince lying in state. On the fourth day, they would be moved to the tombs for the funeral and then be interned in the tombs deep in the mountain. Everyone was sore and exhausted, but the sentiment of the work made it bearable. For Kili, it was something to focus on besides his grief. If his body was busy, his mind was not. They'd made good progress when Bombur returned.

"The tubs are ready," he announced, "and I passed Oin on my way here."

"Very good. Will you help us carry them?" Balin asked unnecessarily. Bombur and Bilbo took Thorin's cot while Balin and Kili took Fili's. It was a long walk to the corridor the Company had taken up residence in, and the coin-strewn floors did not make the journey easier. Balin breathed heavy by the time Fili was set down in the brothers' room. "Well, let's get him cleaned up. Do you want to find his spare clothing while I start washing?"

"No, I…," Kili felt his voice begin to falter, but he steeled himself with a deep breath, "I want to do this myself. He's my brother. I should do it." Balin began to object, but Kili stopped him. "Please. I need to do this. I thank you now, as I will many times over the next days and months, but let me tend to my brother alone."

"Of course. I would want the same if situations were reversed. I only worry about you, lad. It won't be a pretty sight, but if you must. Still though, don't try to stitch him up. Leave that to Oin. I've seen your mending skills," Balin managed to joke and Kili gave a humorless grin. His socks were the worst of the lot. Without another word, Balin left them alone. Kili turned from the door and assessed the room. Bombur had pushed the supplies they'd strewn across the floor to the side. Their mother had always scolded them for being especially untidy and this journey had not solved that. Another good reason Balin wasn't here was that Fili's spare clothing was wadded up under his thin pillow and fraternal loyalty required he keep that a secret. In between their two sleeping mats, now to the right of where Fili lay was an old, blue copper basin half full of water and on Kili's side of the tub were two stone bowls and a pile of cloth.

"Well, Fili, you were saying how good a bath would feel after all this," he mumbled hollowly. "But this is awfully rotten of you to leave me to clean your rancid feet. Trolls would flee before doing that," he joked morbidly, as he began to strip off his cloak and chainmail. The thought of doing so before hadn't occurred to him and now he felt too light without it. He tossed it all onto his mat and pulled off his boots and socks. "Not that mine smell like flowers right about now, either. Will you get a whiff of that?" He could think of half a dozen comments Fili would make and the silence that replied was deafening. He rolled his tunic sleeves up past his elbows and tied his hair back off his face. At this moment, he felt filled with purpose and focused wholly on the task before him.

As their mother had when they were sick as children, Kili lifted Fili into a reclining position and sat behind him. First, he unbraided his hair and pulled large chunks of debris from the golden mane. As he did, he felt the soft clots around the stab wound break onto him. He didn't mind though. Next, he removed Fili's armor and clothing. Already, Fili was growing stiff and so it was not as easy a process as he'd imagined. Plus, the cloth layers were sticky with blood, but Kili refused to cut anything away. When Fili's torso was bare, only then did Kili dare to look at his wound, and his stomach turned. He'd seen puncture wounds, had tended his own, but he was unprepared for the carnage Azog had inflicted. The chest exit hole was not terribly big, but the back was wide and flesh burst forward after being pulled out with the blade. His back was stained deep, dark red and when Kili tried to press some of the tissue back inside, the clots burst open and more blood leaked out, causing a bigger mess. He left it alone and steeled himself again. He got up, letting Fili lie down again, and reset his nose with a sickening snap before he finished undressing his brother. Fili's body was purple and black with bruises from his fall and the general journey as a whole, and Kili worried, as he placed his brother in the tub, how he was supposed to lie in state like this. He did not want people seeing his brother discolored and swollen for the last time. That's not what Fili would have wanted. But there was nothing he could do right now.

The water quickly began to turn a muddy red color and Kili scooped a bowl full for a clean rinsing. He'd underestimated just how dirty this would be. Using the other, smaller bowl, he carefully poured water over Fili's head, unnecessarily careful to avoid the eyes and ears, and then found the sliver of soap. As he lathered and massaged Fili's scalp, his mind demanded to wander.

He thought about what they should have been doing right now: celebrating Thorin's victory and mourning with their Iron Hill kin. In between memorial toasts, there would have been song and stories. He thought of times he'd been washed in such a manner, how is mother's hands had tended his fevered or weary body. Shouldn't she have been doing this now? When would she learn her firstborn had been stolen from her, in addition to her brother? How would she bare it? How could he not be there for her now? She'd asked him not to go on this journey, to stay with her, before she'd made him promise to return. Fili needed him, but so did their mother. When would they be together again? He thought of his childhood and the many misadventures they'd wandered into. How many times had Fili protected him? Taken the blame for his foolish mistakes? Now, in the most crucial moment, he hadn't been there to return the favor. He hadn't saved Fili. He hadn't saved Thorin. He'd done nothing. He'd trusted Tauriel to do his work for him and she'd failed too. She let him down. A portion of his mind tried to remind him that she was currently injured, but he couldn't help his anger towards her for failing to save Fili and Thorin. It wasn't rational, he knew it, but he didn't care. He felt hot tears begin to prick at his swollen eyes, but he swiped them away to keep working.

When Fili was relatively clean, Kili fished out his clothing, attempted to smooth some of the wrinkles out, and laid them aside so they would not be splashed. He poured a small amount of the clean, now-cool reserved water over Fili's head to rinse the remaining blood out, and then towel dried his hair. He figured it would make things easier. Finally, Kili reached into the water and pulled Fili up. However, Fili did not naturally lie flat, but remained awkwardly in the curled position from the tub. Kili tried to fix him, but the muscles were stuck and did not want to cooperate. The more Kili fought, and the more the water evaporated, the more reality set in. Suddenly, Kili could no longer stand the unnaturally cold flesh and awkward pose Fili was stuck in. With a frustrated yell, he fled his room and ran. He needed air. He needed to get out. He needed to get away. He'd failed him. He couldn't do it. It was too much. No. No. No.

He stopped when he reached the Hall and the icy night air. He was barely dressed and still wet, but he felt he deserved the painful chill. He'd let Fili die, and now he couldn't even properly prepare him for his funeral. What a disgrace. He sank to the golden floor and buried his face in his hands. Thorin couldn't be proud of him now. After a time, he heard footsteps and then felt a thick cloak being wrapped around his apparently shaking form. He grabbed the fur to him and tried to warm up as Bofur sat next to him.

"You needn't feel shame in it." He let the words settle in before proceeding. Kili was too cold to say anything. "I know you've seen death before. You've inflicted it plenty, but I'm guessing you've never had to see what happens just after. It's a frightful process. Don't see it so much in the animals since we butcher 'em, but it's not pretty. More shocking then when it's someone you care about. Had we been doing this proper like, we would have seen to them right away, gotten them cozy and there wouldn't have been quite the drama, but we couldn't. And now, it is what it is." There was no judgment in the words, and on that note, Bofur let them hang in the air to be absorbed with time.

"Will he stay stuck like that? Have I ruined him?" Kili finally asked. Bofur waved his hand to assuage his fear.

"He's not in the worst of it yet. Oin will have him all sorted out, and by tomorrow night, it'll wear off. It's not permanent. Don't you worry." Kili felt nominally better. They sat there in silence, and Kili must have drifted off to sleep, because he awoke when the rest of the company returned. Bofur and Kili joined the others around the tables and Thorin and Fili were transferred onto the tattered tapestries. By some miracle, Oin had improved both of them. They were dressed, groomed, and somehow Fili's skin seemed normally colored. And as Bofur had assured him, Fili did not look like he was in crippling pain. Neither of them lay quite naturally, but it passed for now. A low hum passed through the crowd and the old members of the Company sang a dirge Kili, Ori, and Bilbo did not know. When Bifur, two beats behind everyone else, finished singing, they reluctantly moved away.

"Would you like to share my room tonight?" Ori asked him as they walked. Despite being mid-yawn, Kili shook his head.

"I don't want to sleep."

"Understandable. At the least, drink this," Oin instructed, handing him a vial. "It'll restore you." Kili grimaced as he swallowed the bitter liquid.

"What is that?" he asked as he passed the bottle back to its keeper.

"Sleeping draught. Nothing restores you like a good rest." Kili would have been mad, but he suddenly felt warm and couldn't work up the energy to feel anything. He thought he heard someone say something about catching someone, but he was already asleep before his brain could make sense of it.

* * *

**A/N: Thank you everyone for the reviews on Ch. 1 and all the favorites and alerts. Always makes it worth the effort. **

**I hope this chapter works. Kili wasn't supposed to panic, but then as I was writing, it's where the story went, so I kept it. If it's too much, that should be the worst of it. Chapter 3 is in the works, 4 is more or less written, so there should be regular updates for the foreseeable future. **


	3. Chapter 3

As sleep lifted, Kili became aware of two things: everything hurt, and he was more comfortable than he'd been since… Rivendell. This didn't feel like his bed at all. Not lumpy enough. Had much had he and Fili drank?

Then it hit him.

Fili was gone.

Thorin was gone.

He was a king.

He lay there, the world heavy on his chest, and wished for sleep to take him back. Dreams could steal him and slowly guide him back to his family, to his brother. He wouldn't have to feel this pain or bear this burden. It could all pass to Dain, Lord of the Iron Hills, a much better leader than this barely-grown dwarf. However, Oin's draught truly had benefitted him and sleep was not going to return anytime soon. Slowly, Kili forced his joints to bend and his muscles to obey. As he assessed himself in the darkness, his right leg and his left shoulder, which had born Fili down the mountain, were particularly tender. It was only in remembering Balin's instruction to take care of himself that he resolved to be gentler today. There would be no rest for any beyond the wounded, but he would observe some sort of limitation. From the blankets, he fished out the cloak Bofur had brought him, and then left the room.

He was glad to observe that he was only a few rooms down from his, and padded down the hall, rather quickly due to cold stone on bare feet, and snuck through the door unseen. He considered closing the door, but the wave of emotion the empty room brought hit him hard. The buckets were mercifully gone, and Fili's clothes were folded uncharacteristically neat on his bed. Still, there was nothing to be done about the bloodstains. He shoved his grief down, refusing to spend another day in tears, and focused on dressing as quickly as possible. He pulled on his boots gruffly, and became angry when he tried shoving his head through the shirtsleeve. He threw it away and sat down on his bed to take several deep breaths. This was no way to get through the day. He needed to be better than this. The others needed his help and Thorin wouldn't act like this. More calmly, he put his shirt on properly, and shrugged on his vest. He could fasten his belt on his way out. He refused to be there a moment longer than needed.

When he emerged from Erebor, the sun had almost reached its winter peak. He'd slept longer than he should have. In the grey light, all able-bodied soldiers from all three races worked to clear the dead. A few horses had carts attached to assist with the task. Kili watched for a moment as friends were gently, even apologetically, stacked together, while foe was tossed as roughly as possible. In the distance, funeral pyres were already burning. Due to the low temperatures, the field did not smell of death, but the ground was still stained black and red. Kili wondered what could be done about that. He saw Balin a few yards away directing some of the action.

"Give me a job," Kili said to him in way of greeting.

"I'm glad you're here. There's no shortage of work to be done. Do you have a preference?" Balin asked. Kili was subconsciously thankful he hadn't asked how he was feeling.

"Not the pyres." Balin nodded as he surveyed the scene.

"Before that though, I have assurance that everyone will observe the customary mourning neutrality. You needn't worry about politics and demands until after the funeral. Also, Dain has provided two stonemasons to prepare the tombs. I know their work from the old days, and they will handle it well. Am I correct in understanding you and Fili use your mother's name, not your father's?" Kili nodded. He didn't need to provide further explanation. "Then that is settled. Now, let's see about a job. You had some aptitude with animals. They're being gathered in Dale. I'm sure the elves and men can handle a horse, but the boars and rams are not farm animals. Make sure there's not too much trouble there." Kili nodded again and headed for the ruined city.

He was thankful when he made it to the stables. Dale was overwhelmed with loss and destruction. Several of the better-constructed buildings were transformed into makeshift infirmaries that were filled with the moaning and screaming wounded. Other habitable buildings were brimming with possibly orphaned, but all hungry and cold children poorly attended to by the very elderly. It was a pitiful sight and only drove home how much work would be needed. But when he reached the old stables, the chaos inside was something to concentrate on. Indeed, as Balin had predicted, the Iron Hill boars were squealing and ramming the sides of the pigsty in protest of their confined conditions. The rams were barely better crammed into their own stall.

For the rest of the day and the two after, these animals were Kili's small joy. While man and elf cared for the horses and the few cattle, Kili oversaw his people's animals. He soothed them with the language they knew, negotiated getting them a slightly larger pen and personally hauled water to make a suitable mud pit. He even fell in just before dinner, and smiled for the first time when a younger fellow tried to eat his muddy hair. As there was no pasture, he took the rams out one by one and rode them around the city and down the mountain to stem their boundless energy. Their stall was kept impeccably clean and each animal received a proper grooming. Back home, there were only so many jobs for dwarves. He of course trained in metalwork, forging, a bit of mining, and leatherworking (his worst ability), but he primarily worked as a farmer's hired hand and farrier. Perhaps it was a tad unorthodox for a dwarf, but he'd enjoyed his time with the animals. Now that he thought of it, Summer would have birthed her foal by now. Before they'd left, he and Fili had placed bets on what it would be. Fili, naturally, bet it would be a filly, but he suspected it was a colt in the making. He'd have to ask when the others arrived.

Yes, during the day, if you didn't know him, it was hard to tell Kili was in mourning. The constant need of the animals let him pour all his concerns into them. For hours, he was running back and forth, riding, feeding, mucking, scratching an offered pig ear, or merely making small chat with the nearest animal. He rose early the next two days to attend them, barely stopped to eat his meager lunch ration, and was almost forcefully dragged away at sunset to the Iron Hill camps for supper. There, it became much more obvious. While there was no celebration, if for no other reason than scarcity of food and ale, the remaining dwarves still sought camaraderie and validation in being alive when so many were not. All the campfires had hearty crowds, a song might be song at any given moment, and some close friends merely sat in silence as they reflected together. Kili was not one of them. Though he didn't want to be rude, he sat as far from a crowd as politely possible. He did not sing, and put almost no effort into conversation. When it was acceptable, he would leave the gathering to sit with Fili, Thorin, and the few who arrived to pay their respects.

During the second night following the battle, as he was beginning to calculate if he could leave, Ori filled the vacancy on the log next to him. "I hear you're also working in Dale. You're in the stables, yes?" Kili nodded. "I've been inventorying. Who is alive, wounded? Who are their relations? What supplies are available? It's not pleasant work, but I think it should help." The young king felt is heart warm a little at Ori's persistent optimism.

"That is good work for you, Ori. Practice now, because we'll need you when we begin restoring Erebor. I can only imagine the ledgers you'll have," he managed to respond.

"I think I'll enjoy that." The two sat in silence for a bit as Kili couldn't quite manage another response and something seemed to be weighing on Ori's mind. "The elves invited me tomorrow to help carry supplies to the other camps. More boats just arrived from Mirkwood. Would you like to help us?" Kili shook his head. Ori nodded slightly. "Tauriel is doing better. We could say hello while we're at it." Kili lowered his forehead into his palm, hiding his eyes.

"Thank you, Ori, but I can't see… elves right now. No more than I already do." He didn't see, but he heard Ori get up and begin to walk away. Then the footsteps stopped and the ground crunched as feet turned.

"I heard you before you went up the hill. I know what she promised. I'm sorry if I am wrong, but if you're mad because she didn't save them, I think you should know she was hurt saving Bofur. He's not your family, but that's still worth something, I think." Kili felt sick now, realizing the truth, knowing the full extent of his unjustified anger, and he could only nod in agreement. Still, he could not bring himself to accept Ori's offer to accompany him to see the elves. He knew better now, and indeed his feelings were subsiding by the second, but now he was ashamed. When Ori was gone, he left, and spent the rest of the evening in the Hall. In the silence, he confessed everything to them, imagined what they might have said, and genuinely felt a bit better when he dozed off in his chair.

On the fourth day, they held the funeral.

Before sunrise, the company minus Bilbo rose and dressed in their newly washed and mended clothes. Kili took extra time to actually brush and braid his hair properly as it was the least his family deserved. Silently, they gathered in the corridor and walked in pairs to the Hall where the rest of their kin met them. As was proper, Kili, Dain, his son Thorin, and Balin carried Thorin, while Dwalin, Oin, Gloin, and Dori took Fili. As they descended into the tombs, deep below the mountain, the usual dirge began. It started slow, barely more than a hum, grew steadily, building up into a resonating, mournful melody that grew more hauntingly beautiful as they descended and the tunnels gave their song new life. When they arrived, they carried one last note and let it die out at each individual tempo.

When silence had fallen, Thorin then Fili were placed into the stone sarcophaguses that would bear them. First, Balin and Dain spoke the traditional rites, and then remembered the great deeds Thorin had performed. They spoke of the glorious day he came screaming into the world and the promise he quickly showed as a dwarf prince. They sang of how he fought the dragon Smaug and helped rally their people when they were cast from the mountain. Kili joined their song of the Battle of Azanulbizar for it was one he knew well. Finally, Balin regaled them all with Thorin's heroic actions of the quest to regain their homeland and his final defeat of Azog the Defiler.

Next, it was Kili's turn to speak on Fili's behalf. He'd thought long and hard about it, but it now felt insufficient by comparison. Plus, his mastery of Khuzdul was incomplete. Still, he took a breath and began.

"My brother, Fili, known as the son of Dis, was the best brother or friend any dwarf could ever ask for. Our father became a burned dwarf not a year after I was born, and what was not mentioned, is that Thorin did his best to act as our father, but when he was not there, I always had Fili. He was the one that first taught me how to use a sword with a few twigs he'd found, and build a snare. He, rather ill-fatedly, tried to teach me how to ride a horse before I was ready, but then made it up to me by stringing my first bow. He later said he regretted that since I turned out a tad… 'odd.' Together, we raised hell for our mother, drove everyone around us half mad at times, but nothing ever seemed bad with him. Therefore, when Thorin needed volunteers for this quest, I would not let Fili go alone. Our mother begged me not to go, but we'd been through everything else together. This would no different.

"Thorin was always tough of Fili. He was the heir, his successor, and so he had much more to learn. At times, Fili expressed apprehension at his ability to meet the task, but in these seven months, I saw a proper prince take shape. Not only was he our most skilled warrior, second only to Thorin himself, but he encouraged us on at the darkest of times. When things were bleak, he offered reassurance, and when we struggled, he stood by us. Perhaps Thorin might have deemed him too sentimental at times, but to me, there was honor in that. When his time came, he would have been a mighty king, one to be renowned through the ages, whose line would stretch on to the end of days. But in his loyalty to king and kin, his life was cut short. It was an honorable death, but it was too soon for what he could have achieved. Though he has not yet inspired song nor legend, I charge you all to remember Fili, son of Dis, first heir to Thorin Oakenshield, a friend to us all." Kili released an unsteady breath when he finished. He started a final hymn, and then the private ceremony was done.

In their final notes, a delegation of elves and men and Bilbo and Gandalf entered the tombs. Bibo and Gandalf quickly joined the assembly of the Company, having already said their farewells. From the rest of the delegation, Bard and Thranduil approached the fallen. The two faced the three dwarves. "Forgive me, Kili, for I have no token worthy of your brother," Bard spoke. "Though we met for only a short while and it was not always civil, I could tell he was honorable and kind. His parting pains me sorely. But I am in possession of an item your uncle, Thorin sought so desperately and never acquired." From his tattered coat pocket, Bard removed the Arkenstone, and hushed murmurs filled the chamber. "If you do not object, I would like to return it to him so that he may never lose it again."

"It truly was his. Let the stone return with its king to the mountain," Kili consented. Bard slipped the brilliant gem into Thorin's folded hands and with a final bow, and returned to his delegation. Attention now turned to Thranduil.

"Perform what final rites are left and seal them in their slumber, for the only gift I bear is not for Thorin to keep with him, but to protect his sleep and remind all of his victories," Thranduil declared. It was appropriately mysterious for an elf, and so Balin stepped forward and those who had bourn the dead down, now gripped the stone slabs.

"And so, as the first dwarves, crafted by Mahal himself, came from the mountain, do we return Thorin, son of Thrain, and Fili, son of Dis to the mountain Erebor. May their bodies lay in peace and their spirits be welcomed into the halls of our ancestors," Balin chanted in the common tongue as Thorin and Fili were properly laid to rest. Despite himself, Kili felt tears slip from his eyes, but he was not alone this time.

Thranduil stepped closer to Thorin's tomb and from his robes removed Orcrist. "In my anger and frustration, I denied your king a worthy companion. A sword known commonly as 'The Goblin Cleaver' surely belongs to this mighty dwarf. May it now protect him for the rest of days." He placed the sword over Thorin and then returned to his delegation. Slowly, the crowd began to filter away. Certain individuals came forward to say a few words or express condolences to the family, Tauriel was one of three elves that offered a blessing over the fallen. When she sought Kili's eye, he did not turn away and they knew that a peace was reached. When most were gone, Dain took his leave, leaving just the Company.

"Today, are gathered, for the last time, all 15 members of the Company of Thorin Oakenshield," Gandalf stated, his voice rumbling on the stone.

"For what it's worth," Bilbo began, his voice delicate by comparison, "though it has ended so tragically, I do not regret this journey. Thorin's mission was fulfilled, and I am glad to have been a part of it. He wanted to give you a home, and he did that."

"I'll admit, I didn't always encourage Thorin in this decision. Life was good in the Blue Mountains. I still wouldn't change that, but I didn't have enough faith. I marched with him all the same, but I was not confident. That part, I do regret," Balin added. Kili was not yet at a point to positively view their sacrifice.

"I like what you said about Fili," Ori piped up.

"Aye, it was good and proper," Bofur agreed. The others murmured their additional agreement.

"They both would have been good kings. We all knew and saw that," Dwalin declared.

"As you'll be," Ori added. The room was silent, but not in disagreement.

"When Thorin came to you with this mad quest, you answered his call. When there was no hope, you stood by him. And in the end, you followed him," Kili finally spoke. "For that, I know he was grateful, as I am too. Unfortunately, I don't have the words for the depth of it."

"Once a company, always a company," Bombur said. It was a rare occasion when he spoke, and it was therefore worth noting. The chamber swelled with solidarity and brotherhood.

"All right, all right, enough with this sentiment. We have a feast to prepare for," Balin dismissed them through his teary eyes. They each said some parting words to Thorin and Fili before returning to the daylight.

* * *

**A/N: I don't know if the book included details on what happened at the funeral. I tried to find an excerpt, but all I found was a summary that included the gifts Bard and Thranduil presented. Apparently, this scene was filmed, but that doesn't do me much good now! That should be most of the overlap with cannon issues. I hope you enjoyed it. With luck, chapter 4 should be out this weekend, but we'll have to see what happens.**


	4. Chapter 4

Balin was not mincing words when he said there was a feast to prepare for. Everyone was busy that day. Despite the dragon's vast destruction, much of Erebor away from the treasure horde was untouched by all but time. Much of the day was spent trying to restore the banquet hall to some semblance of its former glory. Floors were scrubbed twice; tables and benches washed. Some of the Dale women collected the tapestries for the children to beat. In the end, rambunctious youths were calmer and the hangings revealed their richly colored designs. Meanwhile, Bombur and the other cooks roasted meats, seared fish, and boiled stew. Some of the older animals were slaughtered specifically for the occasion (and to save on feed later in the winter), the elves provided plentiful stores of vegetables, nuts, bread, and wine, and the lake was not as barren as suspected. It would not be as grand as the feasts of old, but all in and out of the mountain would eat well tonight.

The preparations paused only for Bilbo and Gandalf's departure. Kili did not blame them for leaving, but did wish Bilbo had not tried to sneak off. He was very attached to their hobbit and couldn't have imagined not bidding him a proper farewell. Kili tried to persuade him to take some sort of payment or token with him, but he thrice refused. At the very least, Kili knew he'd return to the Shire one day for his offer of tea.

When the fires were lit and the first of the food and drink began to arrive, the workers returned to their respective quarters to wash up. As Kili was just finishing removing the last layer of dust and grime, there came a firm knock. "Enter," he called out, knowing it was no one he needed to worry about modesty for. Indeed, it was Balin, clutching some fine cloth.

"I did some poking around the upper halls. They're in quite a state, possibly not salvageable, but I found some of Thorin's old things. We can get the rest later if you want, but I brought this for you. It's the tunic he wore to his first banquet, and perhaps you would want it now." Kili took the fine garment, and held it up. It was deep maroon silk bordered with gold and silver embroidery in the royal weave. It was clearly made for a future king and was easily the finest thing Kili had ever seen.

"I fear it'll be too big for me," he admitted. Even at 20, Thorin had apparently been more heroically statured.

"It was for him too, by a fair bit really," Balin laughed. "A travelling master passed through and Thrain specified it should last him a long while. He would have eventually grown into it, as will, probably before the year is out. But Kili," his voice suddenly turned serious, "you are the king now, and you have a kingdom to care for. In principle, you are tonight's host, and this is your first appearance in the role. I don't say this to worry you. It'll be very low pressure, but you will open it and you mingle. This morning was about saying farewell. Tonight, we celebrate life. Start anew tonight." A decade or so ago, Kili might have said it was unfair or too soon, but he heard what Balin said and understood his meaning. He wasn't supposed to forgot Fili and Thorin, but many more people were also alive.

"Shall we pretend we're at Bag End again?" Kili offered and Balin's eyes crinkled with his smile.

"Aye, that will be a merry party. But let's not actually blunt the knives. We don't have many of those." They shared a chuckle for the memory before Balin urged him to dress. "Oh," he said just before leaving, "don't leave early. We've business to discuss after, the lot of us." It was cryptic, but Kili had an idea what he meant, so he confirmed he would be there, and asked no further questions.

Though he later suspected Balin had been trying to prepare him for this, it was unsettling to feel all eyes on him as he entered the banquet hall and realized his mere presence was enough to dim the chatter, though thankfully the room did not fall completely silent. Kili was subtly directed to the head of the center table, one of five, and he greeted Dain and Thranduil, seated on his right and left respectively with Bard one seat further down from Thranduil. In a moment, the Hall was truly silent and the gathered three hundred stood to face him. He realized he really did not know how to open a feast. Taking his general idea, he gripped his already filled goblet and raised it. The room followed suit. No one stopped him.

"There has not been cause for celebration as of late. Indeed, for some here, not for a very, very long time. Our homes have been ravaged by foreign invaders: dragons, spiders, orcs. Maybe at times, we've felt our customs and heritage slipping away into lore. And most recently, we have been robbed of kin and friends. Tonight, we remember the venerable dead we shall always carry with us. Join me in one of two toasts. To the venerable dead." The room echoed solemnly and they drank together. When he lowered his cup, Kili took a moment to choose his next words and tried to feel them as truly as possible. "But tonight is also for us, the living. We have fought and sacrificed in our own ways, and beginning tonight, we shall reap the bounty we have earned. Evil is at bay for now and we still have those gathered. Tonight, we heartily celebrate friends old and new, battles well fought, and the promise of a bright future. To the future," he cried. The Hall roared all drank their fill, and when they sat, Balin gave him a single approving nod. To much embarrassment, he noticed Ori scribbling away as everyone began eating.

Unlike at Bag End, the feast was slow to start. As exemplified by their leaders, no one was quite sure how to interact socially. While the elves and men had good relations, the recent destruction of Lake Town and the reestablishment of Erebor left too many uncertainties, while the dwarves had been too secretive and cut too many ties in the past, that the idea of civility and revelry was a new idea. And for many present, this was an entirely new situation. But as drink flowed and time passed, the crowd relaxed and followed suit of the older members present. But after such rough times, everyone was willing to let the wine and ale do their work.

Though the head of the center table was not as lively as further down, the four leaders did pleasantly pass dinner. Thranduil and Dain drove the early conversation, but Bard and Kili's natural charisma kicked in. It turned out that Bard was quite the storyteller and he and Dain got into a battle of sorts at whose tales could top whose. It was the first time Kili had seen Thranduil smile, a feat he announced he did not believe possible, which, as his blood ran cold in fear of saying too much, earned a hearty laugh from the elf, though he was cautioned to stop indulging in the surprisingly strong wine and stick with good old dwarven ale. Still, when the main part of dinner was over, Kili was eager to return to his companions.

Another thing Balin had not warned him about was the inability of a king to cross a room in under an hour. He'd barely left his seat when he was greeted by people wishing to compliment his speech, the party, express their condolences, and give their best wishes for the future of the kingdom. Though feeling impatient, Kili did not rush the conversations and never bid leave first as he was under orders to mingle. However, it smelled like Bofur had lit up some of that Shire leaf and he just wanted an opportunity to truly relax. But he supposed this was something he would have to get used to. He did finally rejoin his group, too late for the good pipe weed, but in time for several rounds of some classic drinking songs that got much of the Hall involved. He wasn't sure if it was entirely proper, not that he actually cared, but he joined Nori and his Iron Hill cousin on the table top for a spirited rejoinder of his favorite tune. And to be fair, he did much more pleasant mingling this way as he was acquainted with more of the Iron Hill folk and some of the rowdier men. It still was not Bag End, though it never could have been, but it was still mighty fine party. People ate and drank together. Stories were shared, jokes told, and laughter filled the air. Later on, fiddles and pipes were brought out for more music.

About two hours in, when Gloin was recalling their escape from the goblin tunnels, Kili saw a fair red-headed elf maid enter the hall. It was the first time he would speak to her after the battle and despite their look at the funeral, he was still nervous about it. As she poured a drink, he approached her.

"I'm glad you made it," he greeted her. "I was worried you were feeling too unwell." She gave him a genuine smile that caused his heart to quicken.

"To the contrary, I was ensuring your orders were carried out and food and music was delivered to the wounded and their caregivers. The thought was very well received, I assure you." He shrugged one shoulder in a way Thorin would not have approved of.

"They gave so much. We would not be here without them. Or without you," he acknowledged. "I haven't thanked you properly for saving Bofur. Please know how grateful we all are."

"You needn't thank me, Kili," she replied. "It was nothing any friend wouldn't have done."

"Well I am glad we are friends then." Her expression shifted minutely.

"I am sorry I couldn't save Fili." He waved his hand as if to wave away the comment from the air.

"You tried, and that is all I could ever ask for. I couldn't save Thorin either, so we shall be friends joined in ill-fated best intentions." He raised his glass to keep the mood light. She smiled as she shared in his toast.

"You look exceedingly handsome, my lord," Tauriel only partially teased after they drank, which Kili feared caused his cheeks to go red. "I wouldn't have imagined you'd carry something so fine on your journey."

"You imagine correctly. Balin found it earlier. It was Thorin's. He thought it would be appropriate," he shared.

"He thought right then. It becomes you. Your uncle would be proud to see you." He needed to switch topics fast.

"Do you know your plans yet?" Now that the battle was over and the immediate work coming to an end, many were talking about returning home or staying. He knew her answer when she glanced down at her boots.

"There is a group returning next week. I think I shall join them. Now that Prince Legolas is gone, I should oversee the restructuring of the guard and hopefully drive out the last of the spiders. Plus… I do miss my family and friends. After moments like these, I look forward to seeing them again." He could not argue with any of that. He'd been selfish enough to not think about her also having loved ones who even now might be worried about her. How much did they even know about her running after this reckless young dwarf?

"Of course your people and your family need you. It should be nice to be home again, I imagine. I hope I will see you more before you leave though," Kili implored. Her free hand searched for his and gave it a delightfully warm squeeze.

"Of course. And it won't be forever. I… You seem to need me to save you, after all. I shan't stay away too long for your own good," she joked to cover for something that Kili desperately wanted to hear. But he would not press. He was not in such a position to be able to.

"May I write you while you're gone?" Tauriel raised her eyebrows in a questioning manner.

"I believe as the king, you have the power to write whomever you desire." He started to clarify, but she stopped him with a laugh. "Of course you may."

Kili was careful not to spend too much time with Tauriel. Though he was drawn to her, he was not ready for everyone to know of his affections, especially since they were considered unorthodox. But they had wonderful conversation, part of which Ori and Bofur joined in, before she left to greet some of her other companions. Kili, feeling lighter on his feet, made a renewed effort at mingling.

Despite this being his first banquet and first time hosting anything, it seemed to be a success and people seemed to enjoy themselves late into the night. Slowly though, the cooks collected the remaining food, and guests trickled back to their respective camps. As Kili bid people good night and farewell, Balin took a second to tell him to meet in the kitchens when everyone was gone, and Kili wished for people to move out more quickly.

* * *

When Kili entered the furthest back cupboard of the kitchens, the first Erebor counsel in sixty years began their first meeting. It consisted of only the eleven remaining members of the Company of Thorin Oakenshield and so, given the intimacy of the group and the secrecy of their task, no official conduct was followed, nor any grand opening made. Ori's record book was purposefully not present. They were not in the negotiation chambers that were cleared for tomorrow, but instead had chosen the cramped pantry that was nearly engulfed by two small tables and a modge podge of assorted chairs. For the moment, everyone settled in, knocking elbows and futilely adjusting chairs while helping themselves to assorted party leftovers and more wine. Oddly enough, Kili thought this felt much more like a merry gathering half a world away and a lifetime ago than the party they'd all just left. When the chattered dulled, Balin stood.

"It's been a trying day for all of us, but thank you for coming to attend to this tiresome business," he began. "As we all know, the mourning neutrality is at an end, and tomorrow, probably at sunrise if we're honest, we should expect to be met with lists of demands. We must take this time to decide how we want to approach these dealings."

"Obviously we didn't come all this way to see our treasure stolen by elves and men," Nori declared before Balin and finished his final syllable. His statement earned a "here, here," from some and a scolding look from the Chair. Kili mainly felt his stomach drop as reality set in.

"Nor do we disgrace the past by failing to learn from the past. We know what Thranduil and Bard want, and Dain's suffered greatly for us. I doubt war could be threatened again, but we have a chance to start anew, to truly rebuild Erebor. We must think this through," Balin cautioned.

The room was silent, not from a lack of opinion, but from fear of voicing an unpopular one. Balin had already given his thoughts to Kili, who now feared sounding tyrannical by speaking first from this new position, and so waited as a teacher might wait on his students.

"We don't owe anything to the elves, but we need to reach a settlement with Dale for Thorin's honor," Dwalin finally said. "We owe him that."

"But Thorin changed his mind. He didn't really promise it. His words can have multiple interpretations," Ori countered gently.

"He was also going to sit out the fight, but he changed his mind on that," Dwalin snapped.

"I think," Gloin chimed in, "without meaning any disgrace to him that we all know Thorin changed when we arrived here. I think maybe we all did a bit, but the dwarf who started his quest and led that charge did not break promises or hid behind fancy words."

"I agree we owe them something, but how much? We have our own rebuilding to do and the rest of our kin possibly already on their way. We can't help the men at our own expense," Dori argued.

"Gloin," Balin piped in, "you are this company's coin master. Any thought—"

"Before he gets to counting each penny, I have a reminder for ye," Oin interjected. "The leader of men is not the Master we met, but Master Bard who smuggled us in, provided what he could, and when everyone turned us away, took in and offered care to Kili. Not to mention, he did slay the dragon."

"But he tried to stop us," Dwalin added.

"Well, I mean, he said we'd be bringin' dragon fire down on the town, and we kind of did. In hindsight, and maybe in foresight too, he was right. We can't hold that against him," Bofur added in his normal, casual way.

"These people have nothing." Kili finally chimed in now that there seemed to be a consensus. "They didn't have much to start with, but almost all their worldly goods and livelihoods are beneath the lake. I think most of us know how that feels. No one helped us, but I think we can be better than that." Kili didn't know just how hard his words hit for the older dwarves.

"Aye, but there still has to be a limit. Running, much less building a kingdom is not cheap," Gloin advised, but without his previous gruffness.

"I agree," Kili assured him. "Perhaps we hear what Bard wants first and go from there." There were mumblings of agreement.

"Same for Dain. He came to our aid, has sacrificed much, but their must be a limit," Dori agreed.

"Should he have a higher limit though since he is kin?" Ori asked meekly.

"He didn't come until we were already successful. The opportunistic bastard can deal with it!" Nori was not one to mince words.

"We might need him though," Bombur said. "Truth is, supplies are low, especially now. The Mountain will take time to heal, but in the meantime, we need to eat. Don't know if we want to rely on the elves for help, but it's him or them."

"Aye, and these halls won't repair themselves," Balin admitted. They all nodded and felt the enormity of the work ahead. They hadn't thought of this when they set off. It had all been battles and glory with little thought to what came after. Most everyone here had worked here before or at least seen Erebor in its former glory, but Ori and Kili exchanged nervous looks. This far surpassed anything they'd done in the Blue Mountains. "This all seems fairly standard then. And what of the elves?" The room grew tense again and then everyone exploded in a cacophony of opinions and started arguing with every which one. There was acknowledgement of the fact that they'd fought and died along side each other, but it shouldn't be forgotten that Thranduil had meant to attack, that he'd taken them prisoner, and most importantly, he stood by as Smaug laid waste to the mountain the first time. Could one moment of sacrifice, one elf saving Bofur, make up for that? Kili watched the debate even as Balin was drawn in, picking up only snatches of sentences, but getting the gist. Not a year ago, he would have been one of the yelling masses, but now order was needed. What would Thorin do?

He still lacked Thorin's strength of presence and command of voice, so he improvised. He stood on his chair and called, "Everyone, listen." It didn't quite work, so he did it again, punctuating it with a kick of the table. The stony thud and clatter of dishes brought everyone's attention to the young king. For a moment, Kili thought of sitting back down, but he didn't think Thorin would have. "We need to return the jewels to the elves." It was immediately apparent how unpopular that decision was, but he was not shouted down, which was progress.

"If this is about your elf maid—" Oin began before Dwalin cut him off.

"_His_ elf maid? What do you mean?'

"The elf who saved me, he's sweet on her," Bofur offered. "Can't understand it myself."

"This has nothing to do with her," Kili countered even as his ears burned.

"A dwarf with an elf, that's preposterous," Dwalin argued. Kili ignored it, too drained to be sidetracked into that debate.

"It has nothing to do with her. Please, hear me out. We set out to rebuild Erebor, restore it to its former glory. At its height, the Woodland Elves were a mighty ally. That relationship went wrong for many reasons, but in light of recent events, we have a chance to move beyond that. And as Bombur said, we will need them until the land recovers. We cannot succeed alone in the world."

"But to give in to their demands, we'll look weak, desperate, and that is not the way of Durin's folk," Dwalin argued. There were murmurs of agreement.

"Unless it was done in such a way that we were not groveling, but offering peace," Balin schemed. When it came to diplomacy, there was no equivalent amongst dwarves. The company could see the cogs turning in that aged head. "We must return them preemptively, before Thranduil has a chance to ask again."

"But you said he'd be here at sunrise. How do we manage that?" Kili asked, getting down from his chair.

"We meet him prior to. He will rise early to commune with the fading stars and in that time, a delegation of our company shall present the gems."

"I don't know if it'll work," Ori piped up. "I don't mean it's a bad plan, but it's just not all right yet."

"What are you going on about?" Dori questioned in a censoring way.

"Let's say you ask someone for a favor many times, but they refuse each time, but then when it suits them, they do it. It's nice that it's done, but it still doesn't feel nice since they only di it for them, not for you. It needs a little more."

"That's daft," Dori scolded, but Gloin leaned forward.

"Actually, it's not. That's what happens with my wife. She'll want me to re-thatch the roof since it's scarce, but when I finally do, mainly when the rain starts to get in, she's still cross that I only did it now. We will need to sweeten the pot." Kili had to smirk at Ori's 'I told you so' look to Dori, but then he recalled the many times he'd done just that to Fili and tears pricked his eyes as his heart ached. He clenched his first and swallowed down the emotion to hear Gloin's idea. "It's not much, but when it's not expected, it will be plenty. We offered Bilbo a caravan of treasure, but he took none. Give them two, maybe three small chests, and it will be more than Bilbo, who did so much more, has."

"They should get one, though they deserve a swift kick in the—" Bofur kicked Nori silent under the table.

"I'm still here thanks to an elf… Kili too. I think we're work a chest a piece,"

"But it was a single elf," Ori argued.

"The prince one did help a little," Bofur countered.

"Well neither of them are dictating policy," Balin settled it. "It must go to the king."

"I will go tomorrow then, as will Balin, I assume," Kili said, receiving a small affirming nod. "Who else shall join this delegation?"

"I'll join ya if welcome," Bofur volunteered immediately.

"And I," Ori echoed.

"You'll do no such thing. You'll make a fool of things," Dori argued. "I'll go. I'm head of this clan."

"You can both go. I'd like Ori there," Kili stood up for him. Fili would have, he imagined. He'd convinced their mother to let him come on this quest after all. "We've got one from every clan, but you, Oin or Gloin?"

"I still don't like what that girly prince said about Gimli. It'd rather not," Gloin declined.

"Charm was never your strong suit, brother. I'll go," Oin said.

"It's settled then. We go out at first light. We should get to bed then. It'll be a long day. Gloin, can I trust you to prepare the chests? Don't give away anything too precious, but still make it a worthy gift."

"I know just what you mean." And with that, the company left the pantry. Gloin and Nori left for the horde while the rest went back to the residence. Kili was a bit further down the corridor, and was the last to bid good night, but as he walked, he realized he was not alone. He turned and jumped at Bifur's proximity.

"Yes?" he questioned simply. He silently prayed this wouldn't go too long. Nor that the message would be too complicated. Bifur simply extended his hands, which contained a length of braided cloth.

"Carry them here, and not on your mind." Kili took the cloth, very confused, but thanked him anyways. Sometimes, there was no knowing with him. Without another word, Bifur turned away. Kili entered his room, lit the candle, did his best not to look at Fili's space, and inspected the braid. It seemed to be a bracelet of some sort and as he held the material closer to the fire, the royal embroidery and blue and red cloth he'd know anywhere jumped to life. He looked over at Fili's stuff, where the shirt now lay crumpled with a bit of the hem torn away. He suspected if he went to Thorin's room, he'd see something similar. He needed to thank Bifur properly tomorrow. Clutching the bracelet, Kili fell into his first peaceful sleep in a long while.

* * *

**A/N: Two apologies. First, sorry about the long delay! I was traveling, then started a new job and class. Just been hectic. Also, I had the start of both of these sections (which were supposed to be two chapters) written, but not the ends, so that needed a bit of hashing out. Second, if the editing is worse than normal, sorry! It's 1am here, but I wanted to get these up for you today. I hope they were worth the wait though.**


End file.
